


At the Mercy of Fate

by notmclovin



Series: At the Mercy of Fate Series [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Falling In Love, Kick ASS female characters, Light Angst, M/M, Other, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Pining, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmclovin/pseuds/notmclovin
Summary: Finn’s been in the force for fourteen years, and for six of them, Rey has been his partner. When his best friend goes missing, he begins to study everything Rey’s left behind. The search becomes an unmethodical descent to Poe Dameron, who leads his own investigation into the local murders taking place. While Finn gets closer to finding Rey, Poe gets closer to realizing why he can’t stop thinking about Finn. No matter how close Poe seems to get, he can’t seem to ask himself this: can you find love at the worst time of your life and still have it thrive?
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: At the Mercy of Fate Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178492
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	1. DRIFT, DRIFT, DRIFT

**Author's Note:**

> I was too excited to post this so the next chapter will come late as a result. Give it two weeks max. This is a Finn-centric story with multiple POVs, but it will mainly focus on Finn and his search. 
> 
> Enjoy

The days begin to constrict Finn’s throat. He’s been struck by a calamity, a sense of continuous sickness. The feeling attaches to the sudden restlessness he can’t keep at bay when he thinks of Rey. It’s worse as he settles against the pillows of his bed, turning again and again to find a comfortable position. The sudden oppressive heat of the night does little to help this. He can’t turn on the A/C without worrying about the bill, but he also knows that once he gets up from the bed to flick on the switch for the fan, he’ll be up another hour. His resolve lasts another five minutes before he relents and gets up, accepting his fate.

Once Finn settles down again, with the blankets pushed near the edge of the bed and his arms draped over his eyes, he finds his horrific fantasies returning. His chest constricts at varying moments of thought. Often, he feels the tightness in his chest get unbearable when he recounts the last few days, which don’t fall under any sort of fantasy. Not even the horrific sort because Rey’s disappearance isn’t a fantasy at all.

It’s a reality. A sickening reality he wants to escape from.

He recalls the day with such clarity that it disturbs him. Ask him what he had for lunch the day before and he’d have to ask someone else who’d been there. He thinks that makes matters worse because if he is overreacting it’ll be easier to ignore the feeling. If he can’t recall such details, then it’s in his head. He’d _know_ it’s in his head— like much of everything else he shares with Rey when he’s scared. Rey would tell him so and she’d tease him in that familiar way he’s so very fond of. He feels the burn of oncoming tears as he thinks of her now.

_It’s not in your head. You know something’s wrong. VERY. WRONG._

Finn turns to stare out the window near the foot of his bed. His looming mount of fear didn’t strike until the late hours of the first day when he’d called Rose several times in the late hour, waking her with his panicked words.

______________

_The clock reads 3:45 AM.  
  
At this odd hour, Finn is usually sleeping and not gnawing on his nails, thinking of Rey. He usually leaves that for the days they’re forced to work apart. It’s not normal for Rey to be out this late. If they ever have to work extra hours, which hardly happens around here, it's without question that they do it together. Not even the Captain entertains the idea of separating them for very long. Sometimes, Finn hates it, like he hates how Rey always drags him along her dates with Rose. He’s not unaware of her concern for him. He just hates that the most important women in his life think he’s slowly falling apart. _

_Another glance at his phone shows no missed calls or texts. It’s blank with his latest message to Rey glaring back at him._

_Finn 3:40 AM_

_[Rey? I know you aren’t at Rose’s. Call me ASAP or I’m heading to the station to drag your sorry ass home!!]_

_Finn cringes as he rereads his message. Rey always says his threats sound so droll._ _Without a word from her, he begins to dress so he can go by the station. Before he gets there, he checks their usual spots: the deli that’s always open, the coffee shop he surprises her with when she’s feeling peevish, and the lakefront at the edge of the city where they often share words of comfort. It takes another two hours for him to get to the station. When he arrives, there are a few officers milling around, and he questions them all. They haven’t heard from Rey. Nor have they seen her._

 _Finn barely steps out of the station before he’s calling Rose. She doesn’t answer the first time, but he continues to try and reach her. The fraying nerves he feels get to be so much that he begins his walk back home. Maybe Rey’s phone died... She never got the hang of using an iPhone or emojis._ _Rose’s incoherent greeting brings relief as much as it brings instant panic. No, something is wrong. He can feel it in his gut. Rey wouldn’t do this._

_“She’s missing, Rose. She’s not home. I do—” He can hardly think after hours of searching for her._

_“Wh-what?”_

_“Finn, is this about Rey? What are you saying?” Her voice rings through his head and circles his thoughts and fears, and suddenly, he’s unable to properly breathe._ _“Finn? Finn, talk to me.”_

 _“Breathe through your nose and hold it.”_ _He follows her orders because an authoritative Rose is not to be taken lightly._

_“Breathe out.” He can hear the rustling of keys and the sound of a door closing. “I’m coming over.”_

_“NO! It’s late. Let me meet you at your place,” Finn says, more concerned something will happen to Rose too. She sighs._

_“Okay, stay on the phone with me and tell me what’s going on. Please.”_

______________

Tonight, on the fourth day of Rey’s disappearance, he realizes he can’t sleep like this— alone and without knowing if Rey is safe. He wonders how he managed that first night. He shakes his head when the memory of Rose settling him in her arms while they sat at the headboard of her bed resurfaces. The crick in his neck after that dreadful rest had been one they suffered together. He might’ve gotten some resemblance of sleep then, but he refuses to subject Rose to any more of his unease. He knows how often she casts aside her own feelings for him, and he can’t take advantage of that when Rey isn’t around to take some of the weight of his emotional turmoil.

Rose may have given him a look of utter uncertainty when he left her apartment earlier in the evening, but he knows it’s rare for her to let things go. She can’t be fairing any better than he is now, though. He settles in and out of bed several times during the night. The hours go by so slowly he checks the calendar on his phone to make sure it’s not Daylight’s Savings or the happenings of something from a Black Mirror episode.  
  
At midnight, he’s out of bed once more. He tiptoes to the kitchen because he’s heard enough complaints from the downstairs neighbor to know that his sleep-addled steps at midnight carry more weight than his carefree stomps in the daytime. Of course, no one understands how Finn doesn’t properly sleep anymore. They aren’t going crazy wondering where their best friend is. Despite the long days at the station and long nights at Rose's, Finn feels practically desolate. It’s the sort of feeling one reaches after a hard cry, which he’s had very many of the past few nights at Rose’s. He knows she’s cried too. However, her cries of fear remain in the shower when she thinks he’s left the room. He can’t handle any more of that either.  
  
In the kitchen, Finn grabs himself a glass of water, beginning to remember he left his bed for something other than idly standing in the hall. He can’t bring himself to think on why his feet bring him to Rey’s side of the apartment, where her door remains shut. It’s not that she left it that way, it’s that he can’t bring himself to look in there anymore. As he quenches his thirst, he hears something outside of the apartment. The jingle of a key going into a door makes him dizzy because it’s so close, so eerily similar to how Rey would struggle with their door. He quite literally sways on the spot, reaching to steady himself on the island in the kitchen. When the sounds outside of the door cease, he clutches the glass in his hands tightly. The door doesn’t open, but he can’t stop himself from holding his breath a little longer. He waits a little longer, hoping she’ll come in through the door and apologize profusely for leaving him and Rose without a word or a farewell or a second thought. But she’s still gone, still absent… still missing.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier after that. In fact, Finn can’t settle back in his bed afterward. He tucks himself at a corner of their couch, searching his previous messages with Rey for clues he may be missing. Any plans on catching at least a nap are squashed when night’s dreary presence breaks into day. It doesn’t lessen the immediate stab of uncertainty now knowing that today is the official fourth day of Rey’s sudden disappearance.

Finn notices he’s still got a couple of hours before he’s due to work at the station. He decides to entertain himself with mindless television until he can shower and get himself ready for work. Settling further down into his corner, Finn grabs the blanket on the back of the couch and prepares for his torture. The consistent buzzing of his phone is what wakes Finn from his shallow nap. He blindly searches for the damn thing, grumbling as his hands come up empty. He can hear its shrill ringing get louder as he sits up but still comes up empty-handed. Finally, he abruptly stands, forgetting to remove the blanket from his body. A thud marks his inevitable downfall and wakes him completely when his blaring phone lands right by his ear.

“Fuck’s sake,” Finn groans, not moving from his defeated position until his phone rings again. He answers it without another thought.

“Finn’s dead. Call back later,” He rests one cheek on the cold hardwood floor.

“Hmm, tell him he has an hour to resurrect if he wants to keep his job,” Rose sighs tiredly, yawning at the end. “Phasma is looking for you already. I told her the Captain told you to come later.”

Finn curses under his breath, giving a quick word of gratitude before hanging up on Rose. This day can’t get any worse.


	2. DOES YOUR BRAIN EVER GET THIS LOUD?

_Wednesday, September 16, 2020 10:35 AM EST_

_4 days into the disappearance of Rey Skywalker_   
  


“The Captain told me they're sending in this FBI hotshot,” The Sergeant reiterates once he and his subordinate settle near the yellow tape closing off the park. They wait for their mystery man to appear. “The way he put it, it’s some kid who got lucky. Must have some money backing him.”

The answering silence makes him snap at his subordinate. “What’s got you so tight-lipped, Pava?”

“Nothing, Sarge. Just heard differently,” Jessika states in a rather matter of fact tone. At the sudden sound of a car, they both stop talking. She glances at the dirt road ahead of her, huffing when the dirt settles to reveal the Forensic Team’s beat-up van. Man, was the city cutting corners with their budget.

“What you mean by that, kid?” Their previous conversation quickly resurfaces when they realize their guy isn’t here yet.  
  
Jess resists from correcting him. By now she knows he does it on purpose. “Well, he’s good enough to be sent here alone. That’s not a usual occurrence,” Jessika recalls with a smirk, feeling how uncomfortable the comment makes her boss. Good.

“I looked him up after the Cap’s announcement and he’s got all the credentials needed. He was in the force for four years when they recruited him. Spent a few years in narc before they transferred him over to international stuff. Doesn’t have anything tying him down to one place. He’s their go-to man. _They_ need him.” Jess argues, using her hand to count off the mystery man’s list of accomplishments. “Seems to me he’s the kinda guy we need around here, too.”  
  
Before the Sergeant can growl his response back, they hear voices just beyond the yellow tape that prevents people from entering one of the gated trails in the park. Jess starts moving towards the commanding voice, heart beginning to quicken.

“I need a shot of the burn. Take a few around the head from this angle,” A voice continues to instruct. Jessika ducks under the tape, taking her time down the slope to where she hears them.  
  
She hears the Sarge curse behind her, calling her name in a reprimanding tone. It’s barely beyond the trees, at the divergence in the trail as it separates to two different routes that she sees the man of the hour. Well, he’s certainly not missing anything in the looks department.

“Sorry, guys. I was gonna holler at you after I got the necessary shots.” He sends a grin Jess’ way, his hand covering his eyes from the direct sunlight the trees don’t cover.

“What’s your name, son?” The Sergeant asks, cocking his head back and crossing his arms. Jess stands just a foot ahead of him, never looking over her shoulder. She knows how these things usually play out with him.

“Dameron. Poe Dameron,” Poe directs his grin at the man despite the obvious displeasure in the man’s tone (and likely his face).

“Agent Dameron if you’re feeling bad.” He winks at Jess.

Jessika flushes as she examines Poe closer. She’s definitely assessing Poe harder than she has to, but now that she’s talked big game to the Sarge, she hopes he starts proving her right. He looks a bit… normal. He’s wearing what’s considered casual for his field with his badge hanging around his neck, which isn’t saying much. Although much of his plain white t-shirt stays covered by his well-worn leather jacket, she can tell he’s well built. His jeans fit perfectly, and she feels a bit jealous. Her uniform never hugs her ass like that.

“Did you come with Forensic?” The Sarge asks when Poe doesn’t offer any more information. He doesn’t immediately reply as he leans down to examine the body still there.

“Nah, walked here from my hotel. It wasn’t that far.” Jessika knows that’s a damn lie. It’s a four-mile walk uphill from the closest motel. No wonder this guy has a great ass.

“I saw them pull up just a little before me. Pretty good timing on my part.” Jess smiles at that.

“If you need an extra hand, we’ve got time,” She offers, stepping closer to the scene. Poe stands from his crouching position to get a good look at her.

“Think I got it here. Thanks for preserving the scene, though. It’s a good start to solving this case,” Poe reaches out to give her shoulder a pat.

Jessika scoffs, shrugging off his hand. She doesn’t like his tone. He must be used to working alone _too much_. “What are you planning here, anyway?”

“Usual stuff. Eat donuts, stare at a board and drink lots of coffee,” Poe playfully replies before becoming serious. “Honestly, I’m probably going to head into the city and scope the place out. It’s not that big and I’m leaning on the fact that a lot of your residents know each other.”

Jess nods her head in understanding. Not sure where to go from there.  
  
“What’s your name?” Poe asks.

“Call me Jess.” The Sergeant’s sudden grunt brings an exhaustive sigh from her mouth. She grimaces. “Officer Pava and that’s my Sergeant. Don’t mind him. We’ve never had something like this happen.”

Just as Forensic finishes, the Sarge follows them back up to the gates, requesting to see the pictures they took.

“It’s not something that happens every day. Not like this at least. You know anything besides what’s in this file?” Poe pats down the paperwork under his arm, giving Jessika a curious look.

She thinks of Rey’s disappearance and the shock it’s brought to the station. Everyone is watching their backs now.

“Rumors are going around. I’m not really sure if they’re worth putting any thought into…” Jess bites her lip, thinking of Rey. She’s seen how shitty Finn looks. Not that Rose is doing any better. “One of our fellow officers is missing. Everyone’s making up stories.”

“They get caught up in this?”

“No way, she’s too smart for that.”

“So, what then?”

Jess hesitates. “They think she’s dead. Her body hasn’t been found yet, but it’s supposed to be a message to everyone else in the department. My girlfriend won’t stop checking in on me now.”

“How long she’s been missing?”  
  
Not one victim from Poe's case is alive. No one has gone missing for days on end. They were taken one day and found hours after. Maybe a day at the latest. Jessika’s not sure of the details. They haven’t let her get close enough to the case to know it all.

“A couple days now.”

“This missing officer you’re talking about, who is it?” Poe asks.  
  
“Rey. Rey Skywalker,” Jessika says with more resolve than before. Poe gives her a firm look and smiles.

“I’ll take a look,” Poe states.

Jess nods her head in acknowledgment. She hears her Sergeant’s distant call for her, possibly back at their patrol car already. Jessika bids Poe a farewell and walks back the way she came. She can’t help but feel relieved. He’s the first real authority to look so confident. When she arrives at the clearing, he’s inside and seated on the driver’s seat. She grumbles at the sight and takes her place in the passenger seat.

“He doesn’t need us here anymore. I got a call to check up on a trespassing anyway,” The Sarge tells her.

“He doesn’t need us, but he does need help,” Jessika argues. He doesn’t say anything else as he drives back onto the dirt road. She decides she'll have the last word.

“Did I mention he’s a pilot?”

“Shut up, Pava, before you’re stuck on traffic duty.” Jess can’t help the laugh she lets out. She can’t wait for Poe to show up at the station.

_____________

  
Finn’s day gets worse.

More than an hour late, he arrives at the station. The bustling atmosphere does little to his momentum. He’s moving slowly past the officers and civilians. It’s times like these he hates how closely he’s stationed to the other side of the building. He places his large coffee on his desk. Rather than settle down and review what he’s been working on, he stands straight as a rod, predicting Phasma’s inevitable presence.

“Breathe, Finn. She stepped out to check a lead. She shouldn’t be back until later,” Rose has her hands on his coffee, taking it back to her desk. He expected that.

Finn follows her, looking behind her to the Captain’s office. The blinds aren’t usually open. He isn’t there today. Hmm. “Is it for Rey?” He asks about the lead, though her shattered expression tells him what he already knows.

“No, it’s on the recent cases. FBI’s supposed to be taking over, but you know Phasma,” She occupies her hands with several files, her eyes seeming intend.

Now that he knows Phasma may be gone for the remainder of the day, he doesn’t feel very willing to return to his desk. Finn watches Rose. She’s tucked her hair back and her eyes seem tired and listless, but he knows what she’s feeling. He’s felt it since the first day when Rey wasn’t home and when his calls went unanswered. He’s felt it climb up his throat, urging him on.

Although, he’s unsure of what it’s urging him to do. He also knows how ridiculous everyone thinks he is. Rey’s been missing for four days. Four days. Before she was hired, she was a ghost. No one knew her or of her. She almost seemed to just suddenly appear as if brought on by thought alone. Rey always made Finn feel the same way, like he was like her or close to being as special as she was. It’s what brought them together back in Rey’s rookie days. It’s also what sets them apart from many of the others. Rey and him always stood out. Even now, without her, Finn is back to being someone he doesn’t know.

Finn turns, leaning on Rose’s shaky desk. It’d be best if he moves back to his desk to start his own work, but he’s still stuck there. He stares at the desk beside his that’s cleared of files and of personal belongings. It’s Rey’s desk. It’s the same desk she was given when she joined. It’s the same desk he expected to find her when he came looking for her that first night. He doesn’t understand why Phasma felt the need to clear it. Rey’s missing. She’s not gone. She’s coming back.

However, Phasma didn’t listen to Finn’s protests. She kept on, taking Rey’s cases as well. Not even Rey’s cases are hers anymore. They’ve been distributed across the department with Finn earning a good percentage of them. He’s swimming in a workload made for two people, but with Rey missing, everyone has gone haywire. It’s brought an edge to everyone. Finn knows it’s gone around to the public too as the department’s phones have never been busier. It makes him even more reluctant to sit at his desk as Rey’s phone rings throughout the day. He can’t make himself pick it up. He can’t help it when she feels like such a distant memory.

It doesn’t necessarily help that some of their colleagues have said Rey has left. She’s left him and Rose. He doesn’t believe it. Rey leaves nothing behind. She grew up with so little she couldn’t wait to have something, someone, to hold and protect. She loves Rose so much Finn can’t think about it without feeling sick. Rose loves her too. It should be enough for him to know that, but sometimes he would ask Rey. It was always devastating.

_“Do you love her?”_

_“I’ve never loved anyone like I love her... and you.”_

Rey always knows what he needs to hear. Why isn’t she here? Where has she gone?

The constant pressure on his lower back pulls him from reliving the memories any longer. Rose is at his side, her hand urging him forward. “Get to work. We need this,” She sighs, but her words are distant and tired. He knows she’s reaching her breaking point and he’s done nothing to ease her burden.

Finn works once Rose pushes him down into his seat and opens the file at the very top of his growing pile. She squeezes his hand and returns to her own work. He doesn’t look at Rey’s desk for the rest of the day, focusing on the cases he has. Finn doesn’t even move for lunch, but neither does Rose so he’s not entirely guilty. When he does decide to look up from his files, still on the phone with a witness from a week-old break-in, Rose appears with a muffin in her hand. She places it on his desk and walks back to her corner. Finn picks at it as he speaks on the phone but once the call ends, he eats it with more vigor.

The end of the day comes with still no sight of Phasma and Rose’s insistence that he comes home with her. The look on Finn’s face makes her assure him he won’t have to stay the night. Finn takes what he needs before following her out the door. They arrive at Rose’s home for a sad meal between two sadder people. Finn wishes he could change. While she heats a frozen pizza, Finn takes stock of her books. She’s still in school. Finn can’t begin to understand how she’s managing this semester with what’s been going on.

They don’t speak much, but they’ve never spoken simple words. When they finish, Finn has little reason to stay but he doesn’t immediately move away. Rose takes his hand. He looks at her and her look back says everything.

“I’m setting up a search party,” She shares softly. “I don’t think you should come.”

Finn doesn’t speak.

“I need you looking for her the right way. _Your_ way.”

“Rose, I don’t have any leads to go off of. I don’t have any way to look.”

Rose shuts her eyes before breathing a deep breath. She lets it out slowly. “I think I have something for you. Give me a sec.”

Rose stands from the couch, walking to her bedroom and quickly reappears with something in her hands. She sits beside Finn, turning to face him and offers it to him. Finn reaches for the book in Rose’s hands, taking ahold of her wrists as he does. She returns the touch without thought. They’ve done this enough times for the action to be imprinted in them. Once he sees her tears, he’s at his own end. It’s become harder to believe something dangerous hasn’t happened. While Finn’s always believed Rey was strong and confident and so goddamn brave, he’s always seen how she’s held herself best when in their company.  
  
Rey was the best officer when Finn was right there with her, sharing the responsibility and courage. Finn can’t imagine a better partner or a better friend. He needs her now. He needs her here with her arms around him and Rose, pulling the loosening threads back together. Rose stops her quiet sobbing to comfort him. He doesn’t notice he’s shaking until she draws him in a hug.

“It’s hers. I didn’t want to look through it myself. Never thought it’d matter, but I don’t know what else to do,” Rose says in thick paused words. “I’m not like you guys.”  
  
“I’m no one. You know I’d be even less without you two,” Finn objects.

“No, Finn, you and Rey always had this spark. I can’t tell you how many people in town need you,” Rose pauses. “Without Rey, it’s starting to get bad. I don’t know what to tell them anymore.”  
  
“We’re gonna find her, Rose. Screw the department.”

Rose gives a teary laugh. “I love it when you talk dirty.”  
  
Finn kisses her cheek, wrapping her in his arms once more. He tries not to imagine how he’d do without Rose because the thought of losing her too is unforgivable. Rose sniffles against his chest, softly asking Finn to let go. Finn does and decides it’s best to leave when he sees the time.

“Take a sleeping pill. You need the rest,” She leads him out of her apartment, standing between the door and its frame once Finn is outside.

“Ugh, no, I’m not becoming one of those.”

“Careful. I’m one of those,” Rose lightly teases, narrowing her eyes.

“Yeah, but are you the cop in a bad mystery movie?”

Rose laughs softly as she bids him farewell, looking exhausted. The long walk home gives Finn a chance to examine the journal in his hands. He flips through the pages, curious as the countless pages flash before him. He never thought Rey was the journaling type. Rey isn’t ever shy to speak her mind and she never hesitates to speak for others. Finn admires that about her. Her bravery never wavers— not even when subjected to Finn’s weaker moments.

How could he do this without her? Before Rey joined the force, Finn stayed in line and rarely left Phasma’s watchful eye. He was her soldier, malleable and quick to comply to her orders. He was ready to break, shatter into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. It wasn’t his life anymore and to call it living at all was cruel. Rey taught him that.

Without her, he wonders how he’ll do. Will he get back into line and perform his duties to Phasma’s liking? Or will he slip into Rose the way he suspects everyone thinks he will? Will he have her carry him to the edge?

Finn’s mind is heavy with thoughts as he makes it home. He faces his apartment door, the journal in his hands. He blankly stares down at it before the heavy steps of a passing stranger startle him. Finn looks over his shoulder as he grabs for his keys and finally enters his apartment. At the entrance, he toes off his shoes and hangs his jacket on the rack by the door. He still carries the journal when he settles into bed, having changed into sweatpants and a well-worn t-shirt. His fingers run through the pages once more, much slower than before. What glimpses he catches assure him that Rey wasn’t keeping a journal. It’s more of a planner with dates and times and sometimes little notes.

None of them catch his attention until he’s near the middle with the last date stored.

_Sept. 12 th @ 10:45pm _

_last meeting with ren._

_N 40_ _44’ 9.273”_

 _E 73_ _59’ 24.585”_

Ren? Coordinates? Finn isn’t sure what to do. Although, the sinking feeling in his stomach knows how to keep him from thinking any further. He shuts the planner and throws it off the bed, slipping in between his covers. His thoughts circle his head once more. Rey never told him she was meeting someone that day. Rey never kept secrets. Rey never would’ve kept something from Finn. But...

**_Who is Ren?_ **


	3. CONTROL

_Monday, September 21, 2020 5:35 AM EST_

_9 days into the disappearance of Rey Skywalker_

Rose learned from Paige that sometimes sleep never came easily and for the poor souls who couldn’t simply rest their head and fall into it, she learned alcohol helped. However, her preferred method of self-inducing sleep required over the counter sleep aids that worked as well as chamomile tea after excessive use. She was often so restless that she woke up without her alarm blaring and without exhaustion truly setting in.

Most days she doesn’t mind the extra time to work on her assignments for the week and preparing for work early leaves her with ample time to eat breakfast and pack lunch for herself and Finn. But she doesn’t need the extra time today. Today is her day off. Her papers are finished, and her job doesn’t require her, but she still can’t fall back to sleep. Finn isn’t resting. She has so many things to tend to, but for a moment she gives herself time to think.

She stays in bed, tracing the outline of a photo. It’s not of Rey. Instead, what stares at her is Paige. In the photo, Paige is twenty-seven and she flashes her detective badge proudly to the camera. Rose focuses on Paige’s exuberant smile. She remembers celebrating with her sister back at their apartment that day. Rose misses Paige. Everyone does.

Before Rose began her internship at the station, Paige had convinced her the work would be rewarding. Similar to how she’d done when Rose started attending university again, she made Rose’s coffee runs and paper filing compare to her own work as a detective. Rose’s doubtful looks did nothing to deter her. She’d been too proud of her sister joining her at the station.

Rose wasn’t the valorous Tico everyone spoke so fondly of, though. When she heard her last name whispered in awe, she knew it was for Paige. She never minded as she too looked up to her sister. Among her colleagues, Paige had a big reputation. She was fearless and Rose was only too proud to be related to her. No one solved cases as efficiently as Paige. She was devoted to the cause, to bringing justice for those who had fallen between the cracks (to those like herself and Rose).

She was meant for bigger things in higher places. Places Rose couldn’t follow, and it was fine because Paige was convinced Rose’s education was just as important. To Paige, Rose’s work in the back of the university’s library amounted to the same work she risked her life for. Rose could never really argue with her about it, but she disagreed wholeheartedly. When she thinks of it now, she wonders why she ever felt inadequate. Paige always encouraged her.

Rose shared everything with her. In the early days when they could only afford one bed in their apartment, they shared their secrets. In the dead of night, they always huddled together and whispered whatever came to mind. Sometimes, they spoke in sad, distant tones, remembering the loss of their parents. Sometimes, they spoke in soft conviction, each of them taking turns to tell the other that they were enough. Rose never doubted Paige. She never would.

It was partly the reason why she wasn’t all that surprised when after years of service, Paige was finally progressing in her career. Rose knew of Paige leading up to join the FBI. Paige was going to become an FBI agent and Rose would eventually become an engineer. They’d set their dreams into motion. Nothing stopped them then.

Two months ago, everything was different. Paige would be here for Rose and Rose wouldn’t feel so lost.

Paige Tico was like no one else. She was daring and put her life on the line for a better future. And Rose can never forget the call she received from the hospital when Paige was shot. It all blurs from there.

There’s the distant memory of the hospital staff taking her to Paige’s hospital bed. There are the inaudible words of the doctor and then the nurse who gives her a gentle touch on the shoulder as they leave. Somehow, the memory becomes clearer as she finds herself at her sister’s side. Paige is still despite her labored breathing. She doesn’t move when Rose calls her name. Rose’s tears blur her vision as she reaches for Paige’s warm hand. She can’t stop sobbing, sick with loss.

And then, time skips forward and she’s at her sister’s funeral with everyone they know there. Finn and Rey are there too, but she can’t recall their exact words any more than she can recall anyone else’s. Paige was a hero to many of them within her department. Rose is regularly reminded of Paige’s reputation when people realize who she is. She’s the sister of a selfless detective, of someone who knew the risks.

But they don’t know what Rose does. They don’t know what she’s keeping to herself. She’s struggled enough not telling Rey or Finn, but she realizes it may be too late now. What Paige died to resist still remains unknown and the longer the case remains unsolved, the worse it’ll get. Paige wasn’t on just any case. She died working on the same case they’ve had to bring the FBI in for. Although, not many from the department know that.

Hell, Rose hadn’t certainly known until Paige accidentally hinted at it. Rose hadn’t been fond of the idea, but Paige was determined. Rose never saw her dying though. She never saw herself losing her own sister because of it.

Rose knows anything Paige left behind is gone now. Her notes, her files, her badge, every part of her connection to the case is gone and it’s not an accident. She knows that the less that know, the better, but she isn’t sure of that anymore. Rey is missing and it feels nothing like an accident. Whatever’s happened to Rey can’t be related to what happened to Paige. _It can't_. She hopes Finn figures something out before anyone else in the department goes looking and ends up where her sister is.

When Rose glances back at the alarm on her nightstand, she realizes she can start to get ready. Her routine is consistent, and the steadiness of her morning habits settle her fraying nerves. While she’s kept a list of the volunteers and can make an estimation on how many people will come, she worries. The search for Rey relies on the kindness of the public.

Living fairly close to the station allows Rose to be within walking distance of many places. The park that agreed to host her search party is a ten-minute walk north. It’s closer to the lake’s edge where she’s known Rey and Finn to hang out. It’s their space and Rose intends to keep it that way. As she reaches the park, she sees a few people already gathered by a large oak tree. She waves at a few of the familiar faces. Most of the volunteers are dedicated members of the community and some are students from her university. She even sees a few faces from the station who wear volunteer shirts over their casual attire.

The awaiting crowd brings tears to Rose’s eyes. Finn isn’t anywhere in sight. She’s glad to see Finn listened to her. He’s been working longer hours than usual. It wasn’t a real concern until he began to act differently. Since she’s given Finn Rey’s book, he’s been distant. He doesn’t feel reachable and she often wonders if that proves how much closer Finn is to Rey. She’s always known of their connection.

At one point, like most in the station, Rose was convinced they were in a relationship. No one ever saw Rey without Finn. They were inseparable. Rose knows a bond like that isn’t easily broken. Nor does it manifest from nothing. Finn knows Rey better than Rose. She doesn’t doubt he’ll find her. What worries her is what will happen when he does. Will Finn and Rey both come back as themselves? Will Rose know them?

Once an hour passes and the crowd covers more than half the lake’s edge, Rose splits everyone into groups. Each group is designated an area in the city or somewhere nearby. They decide by five o‘clock to meet back at the park and discuss their findings. There are enough people to form six groups of eight with each group covering four miles each.

She sends the first and second groups to the hiking trails on the other side of the city. There’s been a recent murder nearby, so the east side is sectioned off, but people have been known to hike beyond the worn paths. Troopers are regularly sent out to find missing tourists or lost teenagers in the area. The third group is sent into the city and asked to search the alleys and ask to hang flyers from different local shops. The fourth group visits the creek between the hiking trails and the mountains on the west side. The fifth and sixth group are to stay in the park and near the city limits to pass flyers and look in the less populated areas. While Rose has doubts they’ll find much, she rather have more people looking than simply not.

As the groups move to their designated areas, Rose calls the station to follow up with Jessika Pava. She knows it’s too early to expect any calls for Rey’s disappearance, but she asked the officer to keep her in the loop. They share snippets of their progress and a little department gossip and it’s the sort of small talk Rose misses. Finn doesn’t start any conversations with her unless they’re about Rey. They’ve had several quiet dinners as a result. Near the end of their call, Rose hesitates to hang up. Jessika pauses, too.

“I haven’t seen Finn all morning. Phasma was with him when I came in,” Jessika shares. “Is he alright?”

Rose bites her lip. Phasma’s ruthless with Finn. She’s been probing him since Rey’s disappearance.

“He’s trying to be. Thanks for the help. You know we appreciate it.”

“Anything for Rey. She’s probably kicking ass somewhere and forgot to charge her phone. She really sucks with tech stuff,” Jessika chuckles the same moment Rose does. They both promise to keep in touch and end their call.

As the leader of the search, Rose stays at the park to answer questions and to receive progress reports from the groups searching throughout the city. They don’t take a break for lunch, but Rose gets a text from Jessika about the calls they’ve been receiving. Most of them seem to concern the public’s safety rather than offer tips on Rey, but Jessika promises to check all leads herself.

It doesn’t ease the pressure in Rose’s chest much, but she appreciates Jessika’s dedication. She knows if anyone else knew what Jessika was doing for Rey, they’d tell her sergeant. Or worse, they’d tell Phasma and their search for Rey would end quicker than it started. Phasma can’t know they’re using department resources to aid their search. Rose handed out so many flyers asking for volunteers at her university to simply avoid any heavy reliance on the station’s resources. It’s why Rey’s book is with Finn and no one else.

By five forty-five, all of the groups have come back. Most report no findings, which Rose is relieved to hear. The only real success they have is that they’ve handed out every single flyer of Rey and several shops have supported their search by posting Rey’s picture on their windows. Rose doesn’t know how to thank them, but she tries to anyway. She thanks them for their time and for their selflessness, assuring them they’ll have another search in a week if Rey is still not found. Rose prays she won’t have to call in any of them, though. People begin to leave, and Rose becomes aware of someone standing in the crowd.

Amidst the dissolving crowd of volunteers, Rose notices a man. What draws her in is his still form. He doesn’t appear to be leaving like the others around them. As Rose goes to personally thank those who leave she watches him. She can’t place him in the station or in the auditoriums she attends her lectures. However, there’s a distinct look about him.

There are few people between them and now that everything’s been said and done, Rose doesn’t hesitate to approach. When she’s close enough to notice the details of his appearance, she realizes a badge hangs off his neck. It clicks for her in an instance.

This must be Poe Dameron. He’s as handsome as she expected him to be, but he’s also noticeably older with greying hair faintly growing in the front. He’s well kept, and his smile is as warm as it is coy. He looks like he hides behind a smirk and the leather jacket he’s sporting.

“Rose Tico?” The stranger questions, his hand reaching out. Rose takes it into hers and politely smiles.

“Yes. Poe Dameron, right?”

Poe looks bewildered for a moment before his smile turns dry. He laughs as he brings his hand to the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed as much as he is pleased. She can sense he’s a constant contradiction.

“I guess I had this coming, huh? Hope the department isn’t going on about little old me too much,” Poe teases. Rose laughs.

“It’s not exactly the entire department, but you do have a growing fanbase.”

“Can’t complain as long as they talk about my good looks,” Poe bats his lashes at Rose. She snorts before quieting. She tilts her head towards a bench and Poe follows her to it. They both sit in silence until Rose speaks to him about what she suspects he’s come here for.

“I don’t know much about the case. I’m just a secretary at the station,” Rose sighs into her hands. She brings her knees up on the bench and rests her chin on them. “I was still an intern when they put it her on it.”

“I figured that much, but I'd like to hear from the people she was close with. Did Paige ever act different?” Poe lightly asks. He looks ahead at the water fountain in the center of the lake.

“Before she died, she seemed more focused. We never talked about cases because of the risks. She wasn’t even supposed to tell me,” Rose peeks at Poe, but he shrugs before returning her look. He looks solid.

“You were her sister and her best friend from what I’ve heard. I can’t blame her for letting it slip.”

“She told me she was getting close and she wasn’t going to let them get away with it anymore. She said she knew who she was looking for.” Rose is practically whispering at this point.

“I don’t know anything else. She wouldn’t share explicit details.”

“What Paige did wasn’t for nothing, Rose. She seemed like a damn good detective. Better than me in my days,” Poe pats her on the back before resting his hands on his lap.

“Please, you don’t look _that_ old.” Rose snorts.

“It’s all in the skin routine,” Poe declares with such force that Rose rolls her eyes. He doesn’t speak for a moment. “I’ll find who did this.”

“Thank you, Poe.” Rose pushes her feet back on the ground, turning to look at Poe thoroughly. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“I visited the station the other day. I didn’t see you there, but the Captain and I spoke. I also saw Jessika on my way out.”

“She told you about Rey then.”

“She did. Do you know anything about that? She’s not a part of my case, but I’m willing to offer a hand.”

“No, if they’ve set up an investigation, there hasn’t been anything to go off of. Trust me, I’d know if anyone found a lead on Rey’s disappearance,” Rose stares off at the fountain. The sun is beginning to set and the breeze from earlier in the morning has picked itself back up. She closes her eyes, but the sorrow lingers the longer she thinks about Rey. Poe doesn’t say anything until she opens her eyes and speaks again.

“Have you met Finn?”

“No, but you’re not the first to mention him. He’s a friend of yours, I’m guessing.”

“You’ll need Finn.” Rose knows this more than anything else. She doesn’t know when she’ll heal from Paige’s death or when she’ll be able to hold Rey in her arms again, but she does know Finn will be the one to bring her back. She has to believe that.

“Guess I have to meet him first to figure that out, huh,” Poe is giving a half-smile. It seems doubtful in some way.

“You’ll see when you meet him. He knows Rey better than anyone else,” She says in vague words with such solidarity Poe wonders what she knows.

“They’re that close?” Poe seems to think what everyone does.

“They’re inseparable, but they’re not romantically involved. When you see them together, it’s a totally different story. I thought they were together at one point,” Rose shares, a wet laugh escaping. “I have to go back home. I have a lecture before work tomorrow.”

Poe nods, standing and waiting on Rose to make her exit out of the park. She walks with him to the gate and stops to give him a smile. Poe places his hands on her shoulders as he lowers himself to give her a look of resolution.

“Thanks for letting me take up your time. What you pulled off here isn’t easy,” Poe tells her. He surprises her by pulling her into a hug. It’s short and he’s already pulling away when she mumbles her own gratitude. “I’ll see you around, Rose.”

With his parting words said, Poe turns and walks down the street. Rose smiles after him. Maybe Jessika was right about him. She thinks Paige would’ve liked him and she knows Finn will need the help.

Rose makes her way back home, feeling hopeful.


	4. MALAMENTE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betcha thought i wouldn't update huh? There's a chapter count up now! I plan to finish this baby in 10 long chapters so prepare!!!

_Wednesday, September 16, 2020 11:29 PM EST_

_4 days into the disappearance of Rey Skywalker_

Poe Dameron is many things. FBI agent. Orphan. Pilot. _Hero_.

To some, he fulfills his role as an FBI agent well. His work in international affairs rivals Luke Skywalker’s, but against the estranged man’s entire career Poe’s has barely scratched the surface. As for the orphan bit, he won’t dig up graves that have long been buried. The few chances Dameron gets to pilot, he takes advantage of because damn is he a _good_ pilot. His mother was better, though. Much better. And he won’t call himself a hero. It doesn’t matter how many badges he earns and how many times he’s addressed by officials as such.

Poe Dameron is many things, but he’s no hero. He’s doing what’s right and what will always be right. His commitments weigh heavily on his heart and he’s never had his intuition lead him astray. He’s where he’s supposed to be. Nothing will convince him otherwise. 

To keep to his promises, Poe reevaluates the case he’s been requested to work on now.

There’s been four murders within the span of six months. The deaths are not in quick succession with thoughtlessness and unpredictability. No, Poe sees the invisible thread of connection between each. He sees them for what they appear to be. Organized, calculated, and opportunistic schemes. Each murder comes in its own stride with its own motive. Some are implemented weeks apart while others are simply days after the discovery of one victim. There’s certainly an attempt to seem simple and sloppy; perhaps, he’d even say they were cunning as they attempted to cover their trail.

Poe pushes those thoughts aside. This case must end. It’s gone on longer than it should’ve and taken the life of a fellow officer along with it. The local law enforcement isn’t equipped to handle the matters at hand. At least in the eyes of the officials. Poe can’t say he agrees. He’s seen local enforcement with such vindication to provide good for their community, but then he’s also witnessed bloodshed and betrayal. He knows there are those who put themselves above all law and above their oath.

He is not above striking them down. Nor is he for giving them an opportunity to change.

Poe is no hero, but a conundrum. A shifting contradiction of flesh and bone. He’s human and he sees what humans can be capable of. He knows what he’s capable of.

Of course, this train of thought leads Poe to stare at the crime photos once more. Each has its own row, and each possesses something within him. He’ll think of these faces once he’s in bed and the sun begins to rise. They never leave him. Similar to each case he’s been a part of, a piece of him leaves and it’s replaced with nothing else.

Poe is missing pieces. It’s fine. All his pieces have brought hope back into the world. This case isn’t the worst he’s seen and there will always be worse around the corner. He’s aware of what worse could look like and it’s not pretty. Sometimes he still can’t believe what worse throughout the years have looked like.

Poe assesses the board once more. The photos of the third murder are missing but Poe keeps all the details in his mind, the details of it with the rest of what he’s learning.

He begins to re-establish every detail of the crimes. The clock on the nightstand strikes midnight.

No victim shares familial relations. Hell, most aren’t in the same social circles. Yet still, Poe seeks to find the connection, his link to the case. What they share, which is yet to be revealed to the public, is a branded mark. In some cases, they aren’t obvious. Poe sees one mark on a woman’s ankle that is clearly craved with a blunt object. The next case presents it more explicitly as the man wears it on his chest with his flesh seared red and raw. He was quite literally branded.

The mark they each wear isn’t a familiar one. Poe can’t say he’s seen it before, so it’s an original work, something someone has put thought to. They seem to all scream at him.

Poe thinks of the possibilities.

Perhaps, this is the work of a growing fascist? Poe senses there’s more involved than the simple urges of someone picking at random. No crime is truly disorganized or thoughtless. It’s easier to believe that. It’s easier to mistake, but there’s meticulous chaos in each murder.

The murders only involve residents from the city. The bodies aren’t carelessly hidden away, but rather brought to popular areas where the public reports the crimes in hours rather than days. 

Ben Kenobi, the first victim of the case, was a city commissioner with lingering influence on the public after his long run as governor. Of course, there was the immediate assumption of the murder being a politically powered one, but none of his former opponents seek office. Neither do the other victims possess such positions.

Paige Tico was a casualty. She was possibly damage control or a warning to anyone else who decides to investigate further than she did. Paige’s symbol was crudely carved against her left shoulder. It’s not on the official report and it’s not in the photos taken from the autopsy after her death. Poe knows this because of the written side notes made by the Captain himself who pulled enough strings to keep it off record and away from Paige’s sister, Rose.

Poe can’t imagine Rose Tico’s pain. After all these years, it still strikes him how a victim’s mourning loved one takes the tragedy of death. He can never make their pain go away. He can never replace what they’ve lost.

Just like he can never replace his own losses.

_Saturday, September 19, 2020 11:05 AM EST_

_7 days into the disappearance of Rey Skywalker_

The station is smaller than what Poe expects of a city. He knows the city is relatively on the smaller scale, but the building finds itself in the center of it, barely making up a block. He almost passes it because of its size and rather outdated exterior. The brick walls are covered in moss and seem likely to crumble if leaned against.

Poe feels the makings of nostalgia present themselves. He’d had a short but adventurous career as a police officer. He recalls the details of it demurely, like their lapping waves that bring him closer to the unforgiving sea. They take him back to Karé and Snap with their flitting remarks and the late hours with L’ulo who mentored him. It’s been years since he’s last seen Karé and Snap who married after years of resistance. As for L’ulo, well, Poe visits his grave when he’s in town. He doesn’t feel the loss so heavily as the years prior. After all, he’s made a career for himself and he’s irreplaceable. He possesses a name of his own.

It’s what he’s wanted, what he _wants_. He wants this. _He wants this_.

Briefly, he wonders where they’ve settled now that Karé’s retired and Snap has taken a position doing more desk work. He’s heard Karé’s pregnant and Snap’s weepy. He huffs out a painful sounding laugh and enters the station.

Despite its small size, there are desks in every possible corner and everywhere else. He sees the clerk who ignores him in favor of the phone. The officers on duty mill past him too. It eases some of the tension Poe holds. He expected to be recognized right away.

He scans the open room for his target’s office. Further inside with open blinds, Poe sees the glass windows of the Captain’s office. There seems to be activity inside of it and on closer inspection, Poe realizes he’s also found his target— the man of the hour.

Beside the desk filled with likely incomplete paperwork, he finds Han Solo and his longstanding companion Chewie, standing right across each other. Poe can’t remember the last time he saw Han. He hears from Leia more frequently and she’s running for Office. 

Han and Chewie pose in familiar positions, each hunching over Han’s desk and clearly scheming and plotting. Poe warned Han of his arrival long before he was booked to fly into the city. He supposes Han’s been busy since his calls weren’t returned. It reminds him of his last conversation with Leia. He wonders what trouble lies ahead. It brings a reminiscent thrill. Oh, he misses the old days.

Despite Chewie’s frame blocking Han’s sight of his surroundings, he raises his head as Poe reaches the doorframe, preparing to announce his arrival. As Chewie himself turns, Poe salutes them, laughing as he is pulled into one of Chewie’s lung crushing hugs.

“Hey big guy, good seeing you again. See you’re looking the same as always,” Poe mumbles against the other’s shoulder, making a feeble attempt to put the same amount of enthusiasm Chewie’s hug has into his own.

“Let the brat go, Chewie,” Han gruffly huffs, smirking at Poe’s look of exasperation. “He’s on a time crunch, ain’t cha kid?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m actually here on official business,” He says in a resigned tone, feeling as well as Chewie’s loud indignant protest.

Poe smiles warmly at Chewie, who takes his leave and shuts the door behind him. He takes the space previously occupied by Chewie and sits at a corner of the desk. Han doesn’t move back from his earlier position. His hands slide a folder and USB drive towards Poe. “Hope you still got that gut intuition. This one isn’t easy. The leads don’t match up and the timing’s off.”

“Han Solo admitting defeat? That’s crazy talk,” Poe admonishes with a daring smile. Han worked with Luke Skywalker several times. He knows how to solve a case.

“Don’t screw around, Dameron. Something’s missing,” Are Han’s reproachful words, but his shrug of indifference edges more towards discomfort.

“Leia’s in town,” Poe mentions instead of divulging further into what Han means. If Han Solo’s missing something, it’s bigger and worse than what Poe first theorized. Damn, Poe was really hoping to avoid worse.

A look of fondness reaches the surface of Han’s tired face. He smiles bitingly before waving Poe’s words away.

“She knows where I am. She always has,” Han sighs, finally leaning back into his chair and folding his hands across his lap. “Besides, she’s never really needed me. I’m her trophy husband, but with less of the good looks she married me for.”

Poe resists the urge to chuckle. Leia sure likes difficult men. “Just thought it’d be nice for her to have her husband around. Campaigning to become the next president isn’t easy. No matter how easy _she_ makes it look.” He tries to remain light. Han quirks an eyebrow.

He hums distractedly, already moving onto the next thing. How familiar. “Listen, take a good look at everything in there. I’ve added more since we’ve sent the first one.”

Poe acknowledges the dismissal and shakes Han’s hand in respect. Years of family affairs and years of this have given Poe some insight into Han. He doesn’t say anything else as he leads Poe out of his office, but Poe knows him. He’ll call Leia later if he hasn’t already spoken to her. Poe waves goodbye as Han leans against the frame of his door, shaking his head.

Poe doesn’t see what trouble he’s going to get into until he’s quite literally bumping into it. He takes a quick steadying step back, giving a direct look to whoever he’s collided with. He smiles curiously, crossing his arms. Standing near the entrance of the station is Jessika Pava, the officer he’d met just days before. She looks as expectant as she did then. He raises his eyebrows when she motions for him to follow her down a hall, but he’s too curious to immediately question her intentions. She’s inquisitive and determined in a way Poe recognizes in himself. He likes her courage and finds faith she’s one to make good decisions.

When she abruptly stops down the end of the hall, they stand by the emergency exit in a rather dark alcove barely big enough for the both of them. Jessika steps into Poe’s space and directs her strong look of determination his way. He holds his breath.

“Have you found anything yet?” She questions urgently.

Poe produces a questioning noise. Jessika bristles at his lack of words, poking him in the chest. He produces another noise, but this one is of pain instead. She rolls her eyes.

“On Rey! My friend. You know the officer that I told you went missing? I saw you in the Captain’s office. Did he mention her or any plans?” Jessika urges him to speak with a look alone. She’s deadly.

“Uhh, not exactly. I told you I’d look into it, Pava,” Poe swears, crossing his fingers over his chest to prove himself. Her lips purse in consideration before she deflates, finally stepping back to give him space. Poe sighs.

He does intend to help her find her friend, but he has reports to send out and calls to make on his own case. And that’s not to say he hasn’t already started trying to look into Rey Skywalker’s disappearance. After he’d met Jess and explored what little of the city he could, Poe looked into the locals. Rey Skywalker is rather an enigma. Everyone knows of her disappearance, but no one _knows_ her. Most of the community seems to trust her, but she’s hard to pin and even harder to reach.

Poe only knows what Jessika has told him. He needs more. “Is there anyone she’s close to? Anyone I can talk to?”

Jessika levels him with a piercing look. “Besides Finn, there’s Rose Tico. She’s Rey’s girlfriend.”

Rose Tico. The name brings forth urgency. She’s Paige’s sister. She’s possibly lost two people in her life now. “Where can I find her?”

“I think she’s in class or with Finn. I’m not sure, but she’s having a search party at Hawkers Park on Monday. It’s near the highway that leads out the city,” Jessika informs him. “That’ll probably be your best chance to talk with her.”

Poe nods his acknowledgment. He pats Jessika’s shoulder. “I’ll keep you updated, Pava.”

“It’s Jess,” She corrects with a hesitant smile. She seems to find his promise just as relieving as when they first met. She’s a good person. Poe can tell.

“Thank you, Poe. We need her back,” Jessika sighs, slipping past Poe with those words. He mumbles his goodbye as he watches her walk back out of the hall.

Jessika’s departing words remain with Poe the rest of the night. Poe can’t sleep when he finally gets to his hotel. It’s going to be a long night.

_Tuesday, September 22, 2020 7:49 PM EST_

_10 days into the disappearance of Rey Skywalker_

After meeting Rose, Poe finds his focusing splitting between the murders he’s been assigned and the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Rey Skywalker. The details of both seem to submerge themselves in muddled facts. Poe finds a lead on one only to be led back to the same spot— nowhere.

Paige’s few friends know nothing and Rose… Well, Poe can’t press her for more. She’s doing what she can. There’s still Finn, though. Poe hasn’t caught sight of him yet. Although, from the way Finn’s mentioned, Poe gets the idea that he might have something to share. Or at the very least a starting point Poe can go off of. It’d help if he had the time to look for Finn, but he’s never supposed to stay for long and this search adds too much time to his stay.

On paper, his current case isn’t any different from any other he’s been dealt. They expect him back soon. Although, the agency doesn’t say it in exact words. Poe feels the itch all the same. It hit back home, and it comes wherever he goes. It’s the permeant itch to move, to do, to commit himself to his work and it’s driven him to wonderful places where he’s met even more wonderful people, but it never does leave. Never has he settled in his skin and he’s prepared to feel this way for the rest of his life.

He needs to get somewhere in his case. Hell, even a clue in Rey’s disappearance would help.

But Poe hardly finds the day hours to visit the station and when he does Finn is conveniently placed on traffic duty or patrolling somewhere in the city. His sergeant is the biggest pain in Poe’s ass. Phasma refuses to give him the details of Finn’s location, excusing her reluctance as a precaution. What bullshit. Poe doesn’t argue with her though. He still needs the department’s help with forensics and getting the proper equipment to investigate his assigned case.

As a nomad for the FBI, Poe carries as little as possible. He can’t be packing every minuscule thing he thinks he’ll need, so he’s a survivalist. He packs his weapon and badge, a regular kit for fieldwork, and wears his mother’s ring around his neck. It’s all Poe will ever need.

While he wants to help, promises to help, he can’t wait for Finn to come to him. He has his own case to solve and he’s gotten no further than where he was days before. There’s a thinly veiled string connecting to something bigger than what’s been perceived. Poe can see the outline of it, but thus far it’s only hope. He’s reaching for something that will slip through his fingers if he rushes towards it.

As a precaution, Poe goes back to Han’s notes and comes across what he can only assume is what little Han had from Paige’s own investigation. He’s reminded that at a certain point Paige was witness to something that threatened her, that forced her to give up a paper trail. Whoever took Paige’s life is someone with connections to the department.

This draws him closer to the conclusion that these murders aren’t a random act of violence. They are calculated deaths. Poe is hardly new to cases that give an inch in exchange for a mile, but there’s a sinister air to this one. It’s developing into a case with months’ worth of deaths with no leads. He doesn’t see an end at the horizon, even if he can’t necessarily predict when the next death will take place. Bloodlust is never quenched.

Each fragmented sentence, each piece of a word begins to blur, and the further Poe reads, the more it doesn’t make sense. He rests his head on the back of the chair he’s settled in. He’s stiff and tired, so terribly tired. Poe closes the file before pocketing the hard drive. He grabs his jacket on his way out the door.

The hotel is built within walking distance of the city. If he’s brisk about it, it should easily take him twenty minutes to get there. The walk leads him right into the bustle of people out. It’s a weekday and the streetlights brighten the concrete all around. He looks at the many faces passing him and none are Rey Skywalker. He doesn’t know where to head to.

A drink on the job isn’t best, but he’s nearly ready to jump out of his skin. Poe passes the places he’s gone by and asked about Rey. She seems to be a regular at several of the local smaller businesses. She’s well-liked at them too. He begins to wonder if the same could be said about Paige or any of the other victims.

There are bars the next block he walks through. Each one seems to invite Poe in, but he resists. Or he resists until there’s a picture of Rey Skywalker’s face plastered all over the front of one. She’s smiling widely in the picture and her hair is pulled back into three buns. Her arms seem to wrap around two people but they’re cut off from the image. She looks happy.

Poe reads the large print under the picture:

**MISSING:**

REY SKYWALKER

AGE: 32

SEX: F

LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICER

PLEASE DIRECT TIPS AND QUESTIONS TO:

567-890

Once he’s finished reading the poster, he enters the bar and scans the room. Before Poe can approach the bartender, he’s surprised by a loud call.

“Hey, I know you,” The booming statement makes its way to Poe. He approaches the group crowding a corner table. One man stands out beyond the rest. He slouches in the seat he’s in with his arm draping over the back of the chair. The stench of whiskey hits Poe when he stands in front of the man. He pulls back minutely and blinks in surprise when he sees his company.

Poe doesn’t expect to be recognized among the crowd of what appears to be off duty officers, but he immediately begins to recognize the sergeant Jessika showed up with the first time they met. He’s in pedestrian attire but he fails to fall flat. The bartender hardly reacts to his shout. This is a usual night for him then.

Poe just happens to step into the wrong bar.

“How’s it going, sir?” Poe inclines his head towards the empty glass in the man’s hand.

The man grumbles something intangible. Poe salutes the man, already excusing himself from the man’s obvious intoxicated griping when another officer in the group speaks up.

“For someone who’s known for solving cases, you sure lack appeal,” The officer spits. Poe bristles just a bit because he knows what that look means. He knows what’s being implied.

“Guess that’s better than lacking tact,” Poe snarks because he’s not one to take a hit and not swing back.

The group suddenly quiets, and they all look at Poe like they’re waiting for him to screw up. “Well as much as I’m enjoying this, I gotta solve a case, y’know? See ya, Sarge.”

The Sergeant predicably stands, reaching to halt Poe from retreating. Poe shifts and then he’s stumbling forward, cursing as Poe puts his hands up placatingly. He shares a straining smile, trying to keep some peace despite the hostility he walked into.

“Fuckin’ knew you’d butt in. I’m not stupid like the rest of these screw-ups. You’re getting help,” The Sergeant accuses in slurring words.

“Yeah, _your_ Captain’s providing me with some input. Kinda comes with his job,” Poe remarks.

“I’m not talking about that fuck up.”

“Watch it.”

“What you gonna do?”

As his drunk slurring peaks, Poe is yanked by the arm into the hall that leads to what he assumes is the kitchen. He meets the steady gaze of a man his height. Shadows obscure his face, but Poe can sense the tension coiling within him. It takes a moment for Poe to catch his breath as he stares at this stranger. The guy nearly gave him whiplash.

“I’m guessing you’re that FBI agent everyone’s talking about,” He states in rushed words as Poe hears the bartender shout a warning.

“I can get you out of here. Where are you staying?” The man asks. Poe narrows his eyes at the man, his disbelief an instinctual reaction. He’s caught by surprise, which doesn’t happen often. At least not anymore.

“Who’re you?” Poe questions instead, drawing a step closer to the stranger. He stands his ground as his grip on Poe’s arm tightens. There’s the loud scraping of chairs coming from just beyond the hall.

“Now’s not the time to talk, you know that, right?” Suddenly, Poe can hear the angry voices of the officers come closer.

“Haven’t heard a name yet,” Poe counters with a challenging smirk.

“Finn. Now can we get out of here?”

“Finn? You’re Finn?” Poe says in disbelief and then shares a declaration when Finn nods. “I like it.”

“Thanks?” Finn questions, his tone as cautious as his patience. “You’re the first to say that.”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, buddy,” Poe rushes to say, bringing his own hand to rest on Finn’s shoulder. “We’ve got official business.”

Finn pulls back at that. “Can we talk about whatever the hell _you’re_ talking about somewhere else then?”

Once they reach a silent agreement to leave, Finn leads them further down the hall. He lets go of Poe to lead him through the kitchen. The looks they receive aren’t welcoming in the least, but they’re out before anyone gets the nerve to shout at them.

The back alley they walkthrough has dimmer lights than the bar. Poe follows the shape of Finn out into the sidewalk and takes a deep breath when Finn turns to face him.

Poe bites his lip, at a loss for words. Finn is… considerably attractive. He’s tall, dark and handsome and there’s a look in his eyes Poe finds security in. He looks safe, like Poe could fall off a cliff and never worry about falling because Finn’s well-toned arms would be there to catch him.

Or really, he’s just horny and he’s seeing Finn as the personification of every dreamy man he’s ever fantasied about.

Sounds about right.

“Where are you staying? We can talk while we head over there,” Finn asks, heading the vague way Poe points to. Poe stumbles to follow him, his smile wide.

“I’ve been looking for you, Finn,” Poe states again in clear words, syncing with Finn’s brisk steps. They dodge people milling around them as they continue down the block. As they wait to cross the street, Finn looks at Poe.

Oh, boy. Poe can see the suspicion a mile away. “I’m here.”

“That you are,” Poe sighs, feeling the exhaustion start to kick in. They cross the street, turning right when Poe tilts his head in the direction. Finn is quiet, but so is Poe. Now that he has him, he’s stumped on what to do next. “Were you looking for me?” He asks Finn.

“No,” Finn answers too quickly. “Not exactly…”

“What’d you want with me?” Finn asks at the exact moment Poe opens his mouth to ask him to clarify.

“I’m investigating Rey Skywalker’s disappearance,” Poe informs Finn. Finn’s face flashes with emotion for a moment. Poe watches for as long as he can, trying to decipher what’s happening. Finn says nothing so he tries another approach.

“When’s the last time you spoke to her?” He finally asks, immediately witnessing Finn’s vulnerability come to focus.

“That night she went missing. She didn’t show up home, so I went back to the station. I couldn’t find her and no one else had seen her.”

“You have any ideas on what happened?”

“Not really and I’m not going to guess either,” Finn doesn’t speak after that. Poe leaves him to his thoughts. They’re back at his room twenty minutes later. Poe swipes his keycard, opening the door for Finn to enter. He hesitates for a moment before going in.

“What do you know, Poe?” Finn asks when the door closes.

“I could ask you the same, Finn,” Poe quips back. “This isn’t the case I was brought in for, you know. I wanna help you guys, though. I really do.”

Finn looks away, conflicted. He takes a seat at the edge of Poe’s bed, resting his face in his hands. The sight tugs at Poe’s heart.

“She didn’t leave. She wouldn’t do that,” Finn’s rigid like he’s preparing to argue with Poe.

“I know she didn’t, but I haven’t found any leads to say otherwise.”

“I’ve found something.”

“You gonna share?”

Finn removes a book from the inside of his coat. Without much thought, he pulls it open to a page and hands it to Poe to read. Poe glances at him, taking the book into his hands. He examines the pages. They’re worn and folded in the middle. He opens them up, looking at the dates and times.

It’s a datebook with appointment times or something. Underneath a few are small notes, which don’t immediately strike Poe as anything important. He’s about to ask Finn what he’s supposed to be searching for when he sees it.

The last written note. Poe’s heart speeds. No. This can’t be what he thinks it is.

“What is this?”

“It’s Rey’s. Rose gave it to me. I guess she kept some kind of planner, but I’ve never seen her use it,” Finn explains.

Poe shuts the book, handing it back to Finn. Well, this is interesting. He takes a seat beside Finn, watching as Finn shrugs out of his jacket and opens the planner to the last page. He traces each written letter again and again.

“She didn’t run away. Everyone keeps saying that, but she didn’t,” Finn objects.

“She was hiding something, Finn. Something she didn’t want anyone else involved in.”

“Rey wouldn’t do that. She knows she doesn’t have to protect us. We’re a team.”

Poe’s heard those words before.

“Buddy, you’ve got the wrong idea,” Poe says lowly with his lids lowered and his breath catching. Finn scrunches his eyebrows together and gives Poe a hard look of disbelief. Yeah, he’s definitely gorgeous but Poe’s feeling sick with realization and not hungry with want.

“What are you talking about?” Finn asks in a wavering tone.

“It’s not that she didn’t want to. She couldn’t.”

“How would you know that?”

“Finn, I think I know what happened to Rey,” And Poe urges Finn to understand with a look alone.

How can he begin to explain?

“Start talking, Dameron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be going back to earlier chapters and editing mistakes and whatnot soon enough. This one may seem a bit rushed but it's been worked through on/off for several months so edits are bound to come later!


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